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So, I’ve been going through my files from when I was in school, earning my MFA in Creative Writing, and I came across this exercise I had done in which I was supposed to tell a story with only dialogue. I believe it had to have at least two characters, though I can’t say for certain. But I wanted to share it with you because it was kind of fun to read it again. You all might enjoy it, too.

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“Did you hear that?”

“Hm? Hear what?”

“I… thought I heard something.”

“Like what?”

“…Like rustling in the trees.”

“Haha, What?”

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny. I mean, there’s wind and animals, and then there’s trees. It’s only natural for there to be rustling.”

“Whatever! I saw this movie. You know, that one where the people get stuck on the dirt road in the middle of Hicksville and a bunch of deformed inbreeders murder them in the most unbelievable, gory way possible.”

“Wrong Turn?”

“Yah, that one!”

“Well, we didn’t take any wrong turns, so relax.”

“Sure we didn’t, but the tire blew out just like in the movie.”

“Ha! Okay, now you are just being silly. The tire blew out on its own, not because someone sabotaged us. Good thing I remembered to bring the jack this time.”

“Maybe I should go back down the road and check that no one sabotaged us.”

“You want to walk down the creepy, dirt road by yourself?”

“Well—Well, no, but I thought maybe you could come along. It would only take a minute.”

“Oh, come on. I’m right in the middle of changing the tire. You can’t possibly be asking me to stop what I’m doing to come along with you while you feed your paranoia.”

“When you put it that way, you make me sound crazy.”

“You are being crazy right now. We’ve got 3 hours until the ceremony and only a couple hundred miles left to drive. I’d like to shower and shave before accepting my award.”

I bet if I’d asked you to look at some smelly, old rocks I saw back there you’d agree.”

The mother was distraught. Cain wasn’t sure she’d be able to work through the anguish.

His pain had dissipated. The pull that had started up again quit after the baby was freed and the afterbirth had splattered onto the floor. Cain was left teeter-tottering over the woman’s torn vagina.

Cain was breathing heavy. The room was silent except for the mother’s sobbing. A few seconds passed before the baby’s mouth opened and a wail escaped. The room stirred back into motion. Frowns turned upside down. The dad, invited to cut the birth cord, stepped through Cain.

And it was back.

The pain, the puncturing, the PULL.

Cain struggled. He flailed. He tried to grab a hold of the doctor’s shoulders, but his hands went right through the white coat. He turned around and tried swimming back toward the door, but he couldn’t get any momentum.

The pull was too strong.

“Where are you taking me?” he yelled.

He was fine before. Before the pain, he felt at peace. His skin stretched back now. Back to where the pull wanted him to go. Back toward the doctor and the woman and the baby.

The writhing red fetus let out another wail. The hospital room blurred, and Cain’s life began to stutter in front of his eyes, like an old movie reel discovered in a box in a basement and fingerprints and dust and other wear have made it barely viewable. Lacey blows out six candles on her Smurf cake. She is wearing a red polka-dot dress. Cain’s father’s funeral. Brie throws a rose onto his father’s coffin as it descends into the damp earth. His first promotion at Kline, Wendell, and Starsky. He and Brie are having amazing sex. Brie’s pregnant with Lacey. She’s dancing to Van Morrison in the living room of their old apartment. Things are going faster now. He’s at prom with the prettiest girl in school. He’s just a boy with a bike. A nurse wearing horn-rimmed glasses hands his clean, pink body to Nancy Emmerick. His mother screams. The picture fades. Cain can hear a flapping noise like his reel has just ended.

He was back in the hospital room. Not much time, or no time at all, had passed. The doctor still held the baby. The baby was still attached to the mother by way of the umbilical cord.

Cain was starting to break apart. The more he resisted the pull, the more pieces of his body split away. A light enveloped him; it felt like he was on fire. Small bits of glowing flesh and hair and muscle tore off and shimmied into the baby’s open mouth. Soon, bits weren’t even distinguishable, collected in a stream of free-flowing light entering the baby.

Going, Cain thought, as he looked down and saw that his legs were gone. Going, Cain thought, as he looked down and saw he had no midsection. Going, Cain thought, as he looked down and saw no chest.

Gone.

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Beck Sherman was born and raised in Massachusetts. Beck attended Syracuse University undergrad, has a master’s degree in photojournalism from the University of Westminster, London, and when not writing, enjoys exploring abandoned insane asylums and photo-documenting the things that go bump in the night, when they’re kind enough to pose. Beck’s first novel Revamp is available now on Amazon.

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Goodbye Nothing is out on September 3rd! Go on over and check out the BBF cover reveal happening now at DyingToWrite.

About the Author

Cole Knightly writes horror and supernatural thrillers. His debut short story, Portrait of a Ghost, was released in November 2012. Cole has a Masters in Fine Art with a Creative Writing emphasis. He enjoys playing horror and survival video games, which is also where he gets a lot of his inspiration from.